Blog Archives
To The Colombian Woman I Don’t Know
she’s old
and rotting quickly,
each wrinkle on
her silvery black face
tells tales of years
stacked upon years,
tears piled on tears
joy and pain
toil and bitter rain Read the rest of this entry
What is Love?
Love is not a war film
like Apocalypse Now where the hero
goes through the depths of hell and
returns drenched in blood from murder;
he’s psychologically ruined. Read the rest of this entry
These Little Heart Murmurs
What sour sweetness fills the air?
What mixed flavors spur these thoughts?
What song moves us closer?
What forces wedge in between?
What plots?
What counsel?
What stench still lingers. Read the rest of this entry
We Tug and Pull Each Other
We tug and pull each other
There’s never rest between
The ropes we pull are bruising
Sometimes they make us mean Read the rest of this entry
Wilson Santos 